


You Found Me (Why'd you have to wait?)

by juxtapose



Series: Merlin/Arthur Reincarnation [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-24
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-22 08:00:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/607603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juxtapose/pseuds/juxtapose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wrote this as a nice little fix-it for Tumblr. Merlin's been waiting a long while. Turns out he finds what he's looking for--or maybe it's the other way around?--when he's leaving Starbucks in the middle of winter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Found Me (Why'd you have to wait?)

**Author's Note:**

> ***SPOILERS FOR THE FINALE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.***
> 
> So, the end of Merlin was heart-wrenching, wasn't it? I wrote a little fix-it tonight because I couldn't help myself, and on Tumblr people seemed to like it, so I thought I would edit it a little bit and post it here as well. Enjoy!  
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own Merlin. ~~NO ONE DOES NOW BECAUSE IT'S OVER.~~ Title is from The Fray's "You Found Me."

It's the twenty-first century.

Merlin's just heading out of the cafe and walking down the busy street with a hot chocolate in his right hand (because how many flavors of coffee can you have these days, really; it's just easier to order the simplest thing on the Starbucks menu, and Merlin remembers when all there ever was to drink was tea if you wanted something fancy, and once he drank some that was made of his own bathwater but that's another story), and honestly, for all his super-strong magical senses and the alertness he wishes would accompany his young, spry appearance, he's not paying much attention.

The world around him is the same as it has been for thousands of years. Merlin may change his face and the style of his clothes, but otherwise--it remains the same.

A weighty, empty grayness forever clouds his vision, fills up all his senses until he feels as though he is drowning. It has done, since he watched the love of his life, his purpose, his great big Destiny, float away on Avalon waters.

It's become more of a buzz in the background of his daily life, now, but watching the bright blue glow fade from Arthur's eyes is something that haunts his dreams even now.

Merlin and Loneliness are old friends.

So Merlin is not paying attention. He's got a lot on his mind all the time--centuries' worth of memories and reflections, and all the while he pushes past Londoners on their way to work or school. Awaiting their own destinies, whatever they might be.

Merlin's still waiting on his . . . 

"Ow! Watch where you're going! Ah, dammit, it's all over my--"

And suddenly Merlin, the renowned Emrys, great and legendary sorcerer, finds himself plopped down on the sidewalk, his hot chocolate cup cast off to the side of the road, its contents splattered all over the light blue dress shirt of the extremely perturbed man peering over him.

Merlin doesn't know how it happened. He really doesn't. Maybe clumsiness is something you never grow out of, even after millenniums. Even now he's always fumbling and, apparently, walking right into people. A certain someone would've called that sheer idiocy. Merlin himself just considers it part of his charm.

"Oi! What're you just staring for? I was on my way to an important meeting--my father's going to . . . "

 _That voice._ It hits Merlin like a crashing wave, thunderous in his ears and coursing through his veins.

The man's still shouting at him, but at the moment, Merlin can do nothing but watch and listen in awe.

 _That voice. That voice._ And, looking--really looking up at the man he'd bumped into, with golden-blonde hair and crooked teeth and an intense, piercing blue gaze, Merlin thinks, _those eyes_. Merlin sputters a little, attempting to stand but his legs suddenly feel as old as they are, rickety and rubbery.

This is it. This is him. This is everything.

"Are you deaf? Blind? Or just completely stupid?"

Slowly, Merlin finds the strength in him to stand, leans forward a little and places his hands on the man's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he says very seriously, before bursting into an uncontrollable grin. He feels it reach the corners of his eyes, a sensation he hasn't felt in decades. It almost hurts--to smile. To really smile. His muscles aren't so used to it anymore.

The man rolls his eyes in response, shoves Merlin off him, runs a hand through his hair, but there's an air of curiosity in the way he furrows his brow and stares at Merlin for a long moment. Finally, he clears his throat and says, "Step aside, you complete nutter, before I--"

"All right, all right." Merlin raises his hands defensively. "You've had your fun yelling at me, my friend. I said I was sorry."

The man blinks a few times incredulously. "Do I _know_ you?"

 _Yes._ "No."

"Then sod off." The man begins to walk away, but Merlin finishes, because he knows he has to for this to be right, for everything to fall into place: "I'm Merlin. And you're an arrogant prat, but some things never change, my lord." And Merlin lowers his head slightly into a bow, able to peer up just enough to watch the man abruptly halt in his tracks.

Merlin can't help but think that even now, in the morning grayness of the clouds, his King simply glows. Then again, he's always been crowned in gold. A shining beacon of hope. "What . . . what did you call me just now?" The arrogance he'd displayed mere moments prior has been replaced with the tremor of a man who's got memories on the tip of his brain that are coming over him like waves.

"Hello, Arthur." Merlin's crying, now, ignoring the flabbergasted stares of onlookers. Thousands of years, he's waited. Only to find what he's been searching for all this time, right outside an old Starbucks. "It is good to see you."

The man--Arthur Pendragon, the Once and Future King, turns round completely, frozen in place for a fraction of a moment. He shakes his head a little before nodding slowly, confidently, as if everything in the twenty-odd years of his life has led up to this moment.

(Because it really has.)

In one fluid motion, Arthur strides toward Merlin, the widest grin on his face that Merlin thinks he's ever seen.

"Merlin," Arthur says, voice heavy and thick and beautifully familiar. He lightly clasps a hand behind the base of Merlin's neck, the fingers of his other hand splayed across Merlin's back. He leans in, gently, and their foreheads touch. They stay this way for a long while, as twenty-twelve happens around them but they don't seem to notice, because right now, everything is red and gold and promises come alive.

Arthur takes Merlin's hand, leading him down the busy street. "You owe me a new shirt, idiot." It's the first thing either of them have said for quite some time.

Merlin squeezes Arthur's fingers. "As you wish, my King. Only if you buy me another hot cocoa. Do you realize how much these places charge nowadays?"

"Oh, for God's sake, I'm not buying you a--"

"I could turn you into a toad. Right now, on this very sidewalk."

"You wouldn't."

"Watch me."

It is the twenty-first century. And for the first time since the days of old that can only be read about in dusty storybooks, Merlin can stop looking. For the great Emrys' destiny has found _him_.


End file.
